


Perceptions

by IreneClaire



Series: Various Notions Collection [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Randomness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2111430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Goth" or "gothic". This randomly chosen word prompted a 'drabble' focusing on Danny and an interesting character or two whom he meets on a Saturday morning. One shot/one chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perceptions

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: A one shot to a self-inflicted "dictionary word prompt of the day". Random pick from Websters came up with: "gothic" or "goth". Here we go ... in response to my personal challenge, the brain went this-a-way. I'm calling it my first, official 'drabble'. I had no plan when the muse purged the words!

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

The skulking black-attired teenager came out of nowhere right after he burned his fingers and inhaled a much unwanted flush of astringent-tasting steam deeply into his lungs. Giving out with a light cough, Danny pursed his lips in quiet but obvious judgement. The kid sported perfectly straight black hair which hung well past his thin shoulders. Evident by its unnatural shine, the dye job was specific and the style purposeful … if one could call it a style. The Goth-inspired clothes were stunningly out-of-place in the tropical sun. The boy's Queen of Darkness brand of black cargo pants hung knee-length. A black, long-sleeved shirt sported slashed sleeves was undoubtedly new and perfectly tailored. However, it was far from being elegant or even tasteful. At least in Danny's opinion.

Nursing two of his three already blistering fingers in his mouth, he then blew on them hoping a bit of coolness would stop their heat. Partially distracted as the teenager approached where he stood stranded on the side of a little traveled tertiary road, Danny grimaced unhappily as his pitiful attempts brought no relief to the heated throbbing.

Dressed entirely in black, the teenager's complexion was nearly bone-white. At least wherever overly pale coloring peeked out from its morbid looking hiding places. The black-eyeliner was equally meticulous and neatly defined the boy's almond-shaped eyes. As he strode closer, Danny could smell the coconut-drenched SPF laden skin.

 _"_ _A Goth in Hawaii? Seriously in this heat?"_

In silent reply to the vigilance, the teenager snorted under his breath to communicate his own amusement before he merely did the same as he studied the boringly dressed man from head to toe.

 _"Slacks, dress shoes and a starched button down."_ Prysm couldn't keep the disgusted sneer from his lip yet it vanished completely when he realized the man was a cop. He caught his errant step before he fully hesitated but he was committed now as he continued his purposeful walk. Perfectly combed, the man's blonde hair refused to move in the gentle offshore breeze. He watched as the cop blew on his fingers before wincing. Based on the unpleasant state of the vehicle and the dark smudges he could now see on the otherwise pristine shirt, it was apparent that not only had he failed in fixing his broken down car, the likely off-duty officer had managed to burn himself, too.

Prysm's cell phone vibrated just as he rocked to a halt about four feet away from the oddly stranded man and his wreck of a car. Despite the lack of badge, gun and uniform, he had already pegged him for a cop and knew he was entirely correct. Still, he held his ground as he catered the few minutes he would need to take to handle Skittish. One-handed, he tucked his long smooth black hair over his shoulder while answering the call. His casual move gave easy view of the impressive skull tattoo draping the left side of his neck from shoulder to hairline. Manicured nails coated in shiny black glistened in the sun and Prysm watched as if he were someone else as the cop's eyes lingered briefly to eventually return his steady gaze.

The darkly-clad teen softly snorted once more and just under his breath in amusement as the plains clothed officer couldn't help but read the rear of his cell phone case. The words were jagged red shapes on white and printed in a graphically twisted but entirely readable font.

**_Zombies Totally Ruined My Phone_ **

"Yeah, brah. Yeah, Skittish. Two hours. I got a little something to care for." Ending his call, Prysm cocked his head to nearly mimic the blonde officer's similar tilt. He towered over the smaller man and knew he'd intentionally created a bit of displeasure with the words he'd allowed to be blatantly overheard.

"Skittish, huh? Nice." There was a humorous yet overly cautious glint in the cop's eyes as he nodded once to the phone. He was already guessing that he was that  _little something_  as his hand strayed unconsciously towards his belt where a gun might have been. Refusing to give the cop any satisfaction for the ingrained habit that could also be taken as a subtle insult, Prysm said nothing.

"So did they?" Attempting to gauge Prysm's intentions, the cop pointed to his cell phone. "…Ruin it that is?"

"I liked the merch." Shrugging to ignore the man's first query about his best friend's interesting name and tapping the case to his phone, he replied just as carefully. The cop had a mouth but wasn't exactly rude. Then he absorbed the wheels which turned so aggressively to define  _merch_  as  _merchandise_. The man was quick, not directly confrontational, and on the ball; Prysm approved.

"So, brah. What's with the car? Thought you cops had better rides these days."

Behind the blonde cop, a small red four-door dealer's hand-me-down smoldered incessantly from its over-heated engine. Steam and heat rose in cloudy spurts into the blue sky. Prysm watched as the man's jaw worked from left to right and then back again. He was being measured and weighed duly just as he'd so easily pegged the man as a police officer. With or without a weapon, it was more than obvious. Not to be outdone, Prysm did the same and was somewhat surprised to find the smaller man admittedly well-built, muscular and likely quite strong. But sweat continually streaked his face, rolling down into his shirt to stain both front and back in thick wet V's of moisture. He wasn't used to the sun or the blazing heat. Prysm's next label was that of displaced mainlander.

"Where you from, brah?" The snidely knowing question was out before he could stop himself and the cop almost pouted. Instead of answering though, he pointed over his shoulder to the car.

"It's a loaner." The three words reeked with disgust and Prysm provided the cop with a rare smile. The added explanation avoided the cop's place of origin however, it was equally interesting. Yet, he didn't ask for more particulars. Reading between the lines, it was easy to assume something had happened during the week. Something annoyingly  _job_ -related...which really meant  _cop_ -related. "My car's in the shop ... after a bit of an altercation with a few bullets. And no, I wasn't the one driving."

Prysm waited and considered his options. He could simply shrug and walk away; even the cop probably wouldn't care. It would be expected in all likelihood. Rather, he sighed to himself when the cop used the flat of his arm to wipe a deluge of sweat off his brow.

"You mind?" From where he stood, Prysm felt he could at least figure out the problem, if not help. Plus, his fingers ached to delve into the worrisome wreck's innards.

"Someone's coming...eventually." Still watchful, the cop then made an equally spontaneous decision as he backed up with a grand gesture towards the raised hood. It was apparent that the man had been there for quite some time and he was bordering an apoplectic fit from impatience. His rising temper was only made worse by the Hawaiian sun which was steadily increasing as morning became early afternoon. Tired, sweat-soaked and as over-heated as his terrible temporary ride, the cop threw his hands up in the air. "It's probably the radiator, but have at it!"

Habitually, Prysm groped his back pocket to make sure the thin spiral notebook was still there. He shoved his constant companion down harder into his jeans to ensure it wouldn't fall out as he approached the steamy engine. Satisfied the book wouldn't move, he carefully leaned on the cooling rim of the front end.

Danny groaned under his breath as the teenager stalked past him to leer into the cavernous steaming mouth of the dealer's pitiable Junker. The spine of the boy's tight fitting shirt from neck to tail was purposefully slashed to match its intentionally 'ruined' arms. Peeking through was more immaculately whitened skin to display the prominent features of a much too skinny backbone.

"So ... uh ... you know cars?" Danny asked, wondering why the Goth-garbed teenager had knowingly paid a small fortune for half a shirt and if he'd personally borrowed even more trouble that morning. He flicked his sore fingers gently against his oil and sweat stained shirt, grimacing as reddened blisters snagged across the cotton. Intrigued though, Danny watched as the long pin-straight black hair was shoved over a shoulder. More snow-white skin was revealed as a stark comparison against the blackened filth of the car's grimy engine.

Prysm glanced up, appreciating that the cop was sincerely offering him a chance to help. Not that he entirely cared; still for a cop, it was unexpected and both were taking their own perceived sets of chance.

"I do," straight and to the point, Prysm went back to his task as he inhaled the hot swells of rising steam and gasoline soaked vapors. He pensively muttered to himself after checking a variety of things with learned hands. Bending over as far as he dared, he checked hoses and belts but his movements jimmied his small notebook upwards. As he straightened, it eventually fell to the ground, its pages rustling in the light breeze which flowed across the hot pavement.

"I got it." Danny was faster than Prysm's stunned mumbled curse. Smoothing bent pages and dusting off bits of gravel as if only dust, Danny glanced at the first few written lines. He was surprised at what he saw and lingered almost too long before the embarrassed teenager cleared his throat in askance. Gently, Danny closed the cover and handed the notebook over to its owner's seeking milky-white hands which were now smudged with streaks of black dirt.

Brutally shoving his possession back into an obstinate pocket, Prysm didn't say a word. Nor did he look to wipe his hands from their grime. Instead, he refocused on the bowels of the car.

"Typical." Prysm couldn't touch the damaged piece in the car for its heat as he gestured the cop over. Based on the disagreeable frown and hesitant flex of wounded fingers, the cop had discovered that the hard way. But he could certainly feel the new appraising look though which held a calmer respect. Focusing harder on the engine, he touched the rubber hoses which were now only warm. "Hoses and radiator are fine. There's no leaks or cracks. That dumb dealer never changed the radiator cap on this old thing. Since the cap is original, the spring got weak and when the pressure built up, it blew the spring open. The coolant moved from the radiator to the overflow tank; not a big deal except for you."

Wiping sweat from his face, Danny stared into the engine as if he knew precisely what his Goth-like, semi-savior was explaining. He still wasn't going anywhere though based on the prognosis. His real car was in the shop and he'd gotten the loaner just the prior evening. Not only garishly red, the weekend Junker was proving its complete lack of competent usefulness mechanically. Now Saturday morning and running some early morning errands, he was more than a bit embarrassed to be stranded on the side of the road with a bright red rotten tomato.

"I'm waiting on a tow," Danny groused in utter disgust. With Kono and Chin at a family event, Steve had yet to return his perturbed voicemail messages. Danny's only assumption about his partner was that he was out drowning himself on some godforsaken half-marathon in the Pacific. Stuck and refusing to yet contact someone in HPD for assistance, he had settled on an S.O.S. to the dealership downtown.

"It's been a while," Danny rolled his eyes as he checked his watch again. Twenty-five minutes had gone by and still no sign of the dealer's hired tow truck. That delay only meant that he'd have to make another urgent call to the ultra-lackadaisical dealership.

"You can let it cool and get some distance, but you'd need to crank up the heat inside to relieve the pressure." The kid was still talking and Danny forced himself to listen through his moment of distraction. Despite his obviously wrong first impression, the boy was well versed ... and actually very smart. "You'll want to go real slow. On a day like this, cranking up the heat inside … well, you're better off waiting. Or even walking."

None of the answers were what he had hoped for; but the kid certainly knew what he was talking about. The recitation gave Danny at least a few very important points to take up with the dealership once they provided him with a better and more reliable ride. The shrug of bony shoulders meant nothing else could be done and Danny sighed in understanding.

"Hey ... thanks. What's your name? We never got that far." Danny held his hand out until the teenager deigned to accept the one shake while taking care to avoid the worst of the burns. His first impressions had been entirely wrong and he found himself surprised once more when he experienced a firmly returned handshake. "I'm Danny."

"Prysm." Though his proper name of  _Brad_  almost crossed his lips, he defaulted instantly to his Goth name. Based on his expression, the cop ...  _Danny_  ... had moved well past whatever original assumptions he'd made and Prysm realized he had as well. The officer was agreeably decent and genuinely thankful; until he repeated Prysm's name in a certain tone.

"Prism?" Bemused, Danny smiled broadly while sarcastically gesturing to the teenager's monochromatic black clothing. He watched as the boy's face adopted an impassive mask. Used to being judged or even ridiculed, he didn't much like the tone so Danny back pedaled to try to explain himself. "It's just that I thought a prism was all about the colors of the rainbow. You're a bit ... opposite to that."

Only blankly staring now, he didn't know what to say as the cop happily bounced on his toes with that startling revelation. A moment later, he realized the older man had a significantly dry wit and was far from being truly sarcastic. Quizzically, Prysm chuffed a sound at the slight blip in their mostly friendly exchange. Less apologetic about explaining himself, the cop still looked almost pleased with his little joke until Prysm shook his head to finally correct something which was completely off the mark.

"Not that kind of prism," he explained patiently. "It's with a 'y' and not an 'i'. Totally different, brah."

"Oh." Association no longer applicable, Danny lost his smile and blinked for a minute about the gravity of his mistake because the teenager seemed suddenly perturbed. The joke was too soon and the new audience unappreciative. "Sorry."

"Your ride's here. Maybe they have a first aid kit." Flatly voiced, Prysm saw the tow truck before Danny. Its arrival broke what would have been an awkward silence. No longer needed as the impressively large diesel truck roared closer, he turned to leave with a circumspect check of his mental clock knowing that Skittish would be waiting for him.

"Thanks," Danny's voice reached him just as the truck parked in a cloud of roadside dust and debris. Then the deafening noise drowned out whatever else the cop might have said.

His parting silent wave was quick but genuine, and Danny chuffed a confused sound as he watched the black-clad figure virtually slink away much as he'd come. Behind him now, the loud and burly driver began fussing with the loaner's defunct engine.

"Battery," The big man barked around a smoldering cigar and growled in his own self-congratulatory manner. Despite the remnants of steam leaking around his ears and vaporizing into the air just above his head, he tapped the engine block to make his point. "Damn thing needs a jump. I got cables and you'll be right as rain."

"You're kidding," Danny turned in mocking disbelief, laughter breaking through the driver's false demeanor. He watched in fascination as the cigar moved a complete circle in the confused man's mouth. Almost comically Danny read the marketing logo gracing the driver's front left breast pocket.

_**Mel's Expert Automotive Repair 'n Tow** _

Making a mental note to never ...  _ever_  ... visit Mel's fine establishment, Danny shook his head in wonder. "You know what ... I'd check that old radiator cap if I were you. The spring is weak and when the pressure built up, it blew. Sky high, I'd say and that ...  _that_  would be the problem and it's a simple fix." Injured fingers waved through the air in a rising tide as more laughter bubbled to the top of Danny's chest. The driver mutely stared as the cigar made another adventurous circle around his face while Danny grinned.

"By the way," Danny was eyeing the closed windows and crazily waving feathered bling hanging from the truck's rearview mirror. At least it looked feathered from where Danny stood. Cocking his head, he wondered if it might actually be something ...  _worse_. Regardless, the movement meant that the air conditioning was on high as the diesel idled in wait for its belligerent cargo. "You got a first aid kit in that rig?"

"You betcha. Under the seat." The driver chomped on his cigar as he quizzically gave his much too happy customer a strange look. He glanced dubiously from the car's engine to the man who was now climbing into the passenger seat of the air-conditioned truck. With a grunt, he slammed the raised hood back down and readied the chains for the tow without offering another sliver of sage advice.

Inside the truck, Danny had already fished out the first aid kit. Actually shivering as the cold air blasted him full in the face, Danny reactively ducked when the feathered ...  _yes, it was a feathered dream-catcher sun-blasted to a sickly grayish white color_... eerily caressed the side of his cheek. Sighing in the blessed coolness of the cab, he briefly watched Mel's  _expert_  driver clumsily fumble the tow's set of big chains.

This supposed rescue was going to take some time and Danny snorted under his breath when he looked far down the rarely traveled road. On the shoulder and nearly out of sight, Prysm trudged on. Danny watched until the distant wraith-like black shape disappeared down another quiet side street. At first thoughtful of the unlikely source of help, Danny found himself even more perplexed by the few neatly penned and beautifully insightful poetic verses he'd glimpsed when Prysm's small black notebook had fallen to the ground.

_**~ END ~** _


End file.
